


Easy Listening

by albertblithe (Gabbaroni)



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: (sorta) - Freeform, Dirty Talk, M/M, Smut, Voyeurism, it doesn't matter this whole thing is plotless, takes place during the series but who knows when
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 05:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11006958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabbaroni/pseuds/albertblithe
Summary: For the first time in ages, George gets some privacy. It was never meant to last.





	Easy Listening

**Author's Note:**

> *blushes* not the first smutty dic I've written, but the first time I've written one with the intention of publishing. There's no excuse for this, it's just smut for the fun of it.  
> Side note: this title is the greatest pun I've ever made.

It’s a miracle that George gets billeted in a room by himself. The first night there, he takes advantage of the privacy and undoes his pants to get his hand around his cock. Jesus, this is the first time he’s been able to touch himself in so long, and he doesn’t know when he’ll be able to do this again. Leaning against his bed’s headboard, he realizes the fella next door had the same idea and is being slightly less discreet about it. Although, George figures that’s not really fair; his bed is pressed up against the adjoining wall and if he wasn’t right there, then he probably wouldn’t be able to hear a thing.

Still, that doesn’t change that fact that he does hear him. The noises are lewd, unabashed, and they sound so genuine it makes his cock harder. His skin goes hot when he recognizes the voice: it’s Nixon. He hears him speak.

_“Oh, fuck.”_

George can’t help the surge of pleasure that zaps through him at that. Without thinking, the hand on his cock strokes just faster.

And then there’s another voice.

_“Lew…”_

George’s eyes fly open. There's no mistaking Winters’s voice as it leaks through the wall. He sounds more muffled, like his mouth is covered by something. George goes hot again as the two go on, completely oblivious to his predicament. Dick says Nixon’s name again and again, like the poor guy can’t help it, and Nixon’s breathy moans come clean though the wall. They must be right there. 

George knows this might be the only time he gets to do this and, honestly, he doesn’t really care how it happens. Not at this point. He lets his mind wander as he jacks himself. With his own personal soundtrack, he imagines what might be happening next door. Dick has Nixon pinned to the wall or over a desk, buries his face in Nixon’s shoulder as he slowly fucks him. Nixon has one hand braced above him and the other on Dick’s arms that are wrapped around his middle.

Nixon speaks again, _“Please,”_ Jesus he sounds fucking wrecked, _“faster…”_ Dick must oblige him, because a breath gets punched out of him, one that makes precome bead at the tip of George’s cock.

He’s doing his best not to make a sound, but he’s starting to lose himself a bit. His head has lolled back ands mouth is slung open. The heat that rolls through him is addicting, igniting up his spine, through to his fingertips. He’s lost enough that he doesn’t hear the door open, only hears someone say his name, “Luz.”

George snaps forward, hot with embarrassment, and sees Toye standing between the bed and the door. His eyebrows are raised and there’s a smart smirk on his face as he says, “Please, don’t stop on my account.”

Only half hearing him, George has started fastening his pants and apologizing, even though Joe is the one who walked in on him. But Joe doesn’t seem to care, he walks forward with a slow confidence and touches George’s knee. 

George has to look up, his pants still half open and his cock still flushed and hard. He has to look up at Joe, who is somehow smiling and leaning forward. “You hear me, Luz? Don’t let me stop you.” Then the hand on his knee slides up his thigh and Joe is leading George to lean back against the headboard, kneeling on the bed, hovering over him. He squeezes his thigh hard and gets his other hand underneath George’s shirt to slide up his side. 

Breath coming faster, George looks down between his legs and then back to Joe who barely nods. He reaches down and opens his fly, Joe watching his movements, and wraps his hand around his cock.

“That’s it.” Joe says as George begins to stroke himself. George is holding his breath; he doesn’t dare make a noise, but in the silence, Nixon’s voice breaks through.

 _“Oh God…”_ it’s said on a shaking breath and George feels heat wash down his neck. Another moan comes across that almost positively belongs to Winters.

Joe looks to the wall and a grin breaks across his face. He leans down and nips at George’s neck. He says lowly, “Is that what you like? Did you get hard listening to them fuck?” The hand on his side scrapes its fingernails across George’s trembling stomach and he lets out a pathetic sounding whine as his eyes flutter shut. His hand pumps his cock hard as Joe’s breath spreads across his skin. Joe’s hands roam around his body and George’s blood surges with the touch.

Joe seems to react to the noises in the next room too, shivering at a punctuated moan and biting hard at Luz at the sound of another. He’s pushed up Luz’s shirt to his armpits and Luz’s chest is heaving; he finds himself arching into Joe’s touch, which seems to oscillate between teasing and rough. It fucking drives George crazy.

Joe snakes a hand into George’s hair and jerks his head forward, forcing him to look Joe in the eye. 

 _“A-Ah!”_ comes through the wall, desperate and broken; George can’t tell who it’s from, he can’t think past the look in Joe’s eyes, but the sound sends a chill through his body and he lets out a moan. As it escapes his mouth, something breaks in Joe. Sliding his arms under George, he easily lifts him up and pins him to the wall beside the bed. He kneels one knee on the mattress and slides the other one between George’s thighs. He presses in close, taking his mouth to George’s neck and grinding his hips forward. 

When George has righted himself, he grasps at Joe’s hair and gets his hand around himself again. He wants to watch Joe as he ruts against him; the movement alone makes George’s cock pulse and he wonders how much better it would be if he got Joe naked. Scraping his nails on Joe’s scalp, he gets needy little moan, and Joe gets rougher with him, biting harder, moving George where he wants him.

Next door the sounds from Nixon and Winters continue, but George hardly hears them over Joe’s voice in his ear. “That’s it, George, touch yourself for me.” he says, “You like hearing them?” George knows he’s not looking for an answer, but he nods anyway and feels Joe smile against his skin. He reaches down and wraps his hand around George’s cock with George’s own fingers and pumps him fast and hot.

“Oh, shit,” George groans out.

As he strokes him, Joe husks by George’s ear, “Do you want me? Look,” He brings George’s hand from its place in his hair to feel Joe’s hard length through his pants. “See what you do to me?”

George lets out a whine. The heat pooled in his middle is starting to curl tight, and his breath comes in soft gasps like he can’t help it. “Joe, Joe, I–” Joe holds George’s head with both of his hands, but George’s eyes won’t focus.

“Come on, George, look at me, look at me.” He sounds so desperate for him; George has to obey.

He begins to crumble; Joe’s hands are hot on his skin and he can’t make himself look away. Not when Joe’s voice is so earnest. Joe puts his forehead to George’s and lets his lips brush his, not a kiss, but the effect on George is all the same. He comes touching himself with his eyes open, moaning into Joe’s mouth. With the last wave, a shudder rolls through him and he slumps onto the wall. 

Before George has barely recovered, Joe opens his own fly to get at his cock. George sees his hand moving furiously.

“I can–” But Joe puts a hand to his chest

“Just let me…” his voice gets caught on a hitching breath, “Oh, _Jesus_.”

George refuses to be left out; he pulls himself up and bites into the junction of Joe’s shoulder and neck, weaving his fingers into the sheared hair at the back of Joe’s head.

Joe heaves another breath and barely whispers an, “Oh…” Curling forward, he comes into his hand, some of it spilling onto George’s still exposed stomach. 

“Holy shit.”

Joe just looks up at him and slips off the bed; he finds a rag to wipe them both down and George is surprised at how tender and careful he is. When he’s righted himself, Joe walks toward the door.

From his place on the bed, George says, “You can stay.”

Joe shakes his head, “Wouldn’t be smart.” He walks back to where Luz sits and kisses his temple. “I’ll see you soon, Georgie.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If you read this, thank you! If you liked it, please feel free to comment or kudos. I will always accept your validation.


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